


Could Be Worse

by chaineddove



Series: Chemistry-verse [2]
Category: Yami No Matsuei
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:45:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaineddove/pseuds/chaineddove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watari is an eternal optimist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could Be Worse

**Author's Note:**

> If you read _Something like Chemistry_ , you will remember Watari's infamous toaster. If not, you're about to meet it.

“Watari-san!”

 _Shit._ “I didn’t do it!” was the first, conditioned response. Tatsumi never called him that outside of the office anymore unless he had managed to outdo himself in matters of destruction. Watari winced when Tatsumi stormed in, something red, green and mangled clutched in his hand. “I really _didn’t_ do it,” Watari said with some surprise, examining what Tatsumi was holding. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“ _These_ are all that is left of my rosebushes,” Tatsumi said between clenched teeth, shaking them in Watari’s face. He was disheveled and — in Watari’s opinion — looked absolutely delicious. But this was not the time to say so. “I have told you before to restrain your infernal toaster—and _what_ is the meaning of all this?”

Watari flinched guiltily as Tatsumi reached for one of the several chains around his neck and yanked on the crucifix hanging off of it. There was a string of garlic around his neck, too, and a vial of holy water on the table, next to a stack of the notes he currently had scattered all around Tatsumi’s living room. “Er… Tatsumi… speaking of the toaster…”

Tatsumi’s eyes narrowed. Watari gulped. “What about the toaster?” Tatsumi asked in a coolly polite voice that indicated Watari was soon to suffer bodily harm.

“I’m… uh… prettysureit’spossessed.” Utter silence. Watari tried very, very hard to smile. “I’m trying to… fix it?”

“Watari-san,” Tatsumi finally said, pushing his glasses up on his nose, “are you trying to tell me that your toaster, which has wings and claws, _bites_ careless passerby, and regularly shreds my roses _was not possessed before?_ ”

Watari shifted his weight uncomfortably under Tatsumi’s unforgiving eyes. “No, that was temperamental. Now it’s possessed. You should maybe borrow that crucifix, actually, until I can figure out how to get it back to normal.”

“Temperamental.”

In a last-ditch effort to postpone the imminent explosion, Watari blurted out, “It could be worse.”

“How so?”

He quickly named the number-one thing that could really ruin his day — and piss off the possessed toaster. “It could be raining.”

In response, thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. “I’m going to kill you in your sleep,” Tatsumi informed him.

“I’m already dead,” Watari pointed out plaintively, not for the first time.

“And by the time you are conscious again, I will have made roast owl for dinner.” Watari gaped, but before he could respond, Tatsumi pulled the chain holding the heavy crucifix over Watari's head and hung it around his own neck. “Keep your toaster out of my rosebushes,” he cautioned in a velvety voice. He walked out of the room, leaving an appalled and speechless Watari behind.

_“BULLY!”_

From the direction of the kitchen, he could hear Tatsumi laughing.


End file.
